


Kiss Me Hard Before You Go

by Madzie



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Complicated - Freeform, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 02:29:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9214853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madzie/pseuds/Madzie
Summary: Magnus Bane looks like bubblegum, and when they kiss  he tastes like once upon a time use to mean before Alec begun to see through the carefully concealed travesties and bloodshed tucked behind the gleaming towers and emerald roads.--OR--In which Alec Lightwood is everything passionate, and proud, and just a little broken. Magnus Bane is  everything brilliant, and glimmering, and constantly wearing a facade.. They were a master peace of contradictions, But neither can look away, and catch themselves in a tragic love affair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of a different tone and I have no idea what people will think...I really hope anyone likes it though<3 This first part is definitely Alec centric.

you promised me summer  
you're giving me winter  
and this is all the thanks that I'll get  
Coconut Records

 

***

 

When they meet, it’s the start of every tragic, gay love story that the mainstream media loves to hold up as a critically acclaimed, painfully real depiction of the struggle between two boys in love in a country that has never really accepted it.

And Alec should really find the whole thing quite satirically hilarious, considering that it’s there highfaluting reviews that he has always craved for…But he doesn’t.

Alec thinks it’s all bullshit., because he’s not some gay choir boy trying to find himself, or some poor fuck caging up his emotions in fear of the consequences they might illicit.

NO, Alec Lightwood has known he’s liked boys sense pre school when he wanted to hold hands with Omar Brown over his sister Noreen, and he’s never acted otherwise. 

Neither the covert rumblings of condemnation made by the close minded lot whom make up the antiquity of American old money, nor his parents skewering sneers which sear through his very being if he ever hints at his attraction towards the same sex, can change that staple of his essence as innocent and concrete as the darkness of his locks, or his unwavering loyalty to those whom he loves with a fierceness paralleled by no other.

 

***

 

Alec’s ordainment into teen-hood was met by a far to seedy party for children whom were born and bread into the outrageous exuberance of livelihood. One where every student of his pompous, over priced preparatory school were in attendance.

No one else realized the significance of the day—Far to entrenched in their own entanglements to mind anyone else’s at the event— But Alec relished in the anonymity of the whole thing. And instead of going with Aline Penhallow to the closet for their seven minutes in heaven, he gave a hand job to some random bloke he met at a bar two blocks down—One which young boys like him should’ve never been privy to in the first place.

But then again, wealth and neglect exposes one to the shadows of life at a far earlier age than what is politically correct.

He comes home at the break of dawn with the stench of cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket, and the effects of some randomly mixed tonic just beginning to ware off.

Jace and Izzy were waiting up for him, bent on helping their older brother on shedding himself of any lingering clues of what precisely had occurred that night—And only a little piece of Alec was disappointed that it wasn’t his parents sitting there on the edge of his bed, alarmed to where their eldest born has disappeared to for the past twelve hours.

Jace looked at him all the while with his large, miss matching eyes, as if trying to tell him he understands, and he’s sorry.

Alec wants to scream out for him to shut the fuck up—Never mind that he never spoke—Because Jace doesn’t understand. Because Jace snogged Clary Fairchild without question. Because Jace is the son that any father would be proud to call his successor, and any mother would adore boasting about to all her tea party friends. And Because Alec was not.

Because Alec is deformed, and broken, and not like any of the other boys in his class.

And his parents know it, but try their best to wave off his tendencies as merely a phase until he becomes a man.

Because how the fuck could the Lightwoods not have a son as polished and perfect as their name entails?

 

***

 

But of course it’s not a phase.

Alec does the same routine for all the coming years, as if some sort of convoluted parody of the rinse, lather repeat cycle. 

He slinks into the dark streets of New York—Spared any sort of chastisement from his parents who never really cared—Drinks himself to near unconsciousness, and then finds some pathetic bastard forced to marry some pretty blonde bimbo to hide out his truth. , An old git who had plenty of money and who wouldn’t mind spoiling his conquest of the night—

Alec fucks him in a quick, rhythmic thrust of the hips or pucker of the lips—Just long enough so the wanker is satisfied, and just enough so that Alec can pretend that he convinced himself that he liked it.

Alec never accepts money or fucks the same guy twice…those are his only rules, and he thinks it’s worked for him so far.

The men he meets give him things from Rolex watches, to pretty little pills that make him see glimmering stars and ache the next morning.

It’s all quite monotonous.

Though Alec soon concludes that’s it’s never really been for the gifts—He’s the fucking heir to the Lightwood legacy, he could have anything that money can buy, and beyond—No, what Alec craved was the way each one of those men had one common strand that connected them together—

They wanted him, in ways that he had never felt before, and like a narcotic —Alec couldn’t imagine letting go of the rush it gave him to have them begging for him like that…And the knowledge of all the things they were willing to give up just to have him for the night.

He felt validated and desired by an adult…

 

And well, Alec has never said he wasn’t fucked up himself.

 

***

 

It’s an average Thursday afternoon when Izzy and Jace corner him—Just like the god forsaken intervention that it is.

“You’ve been gone for the past three nights in a row,” Izzy hurls the fact at him as if it were squirming up her throat in a burning fury.

“Is that right,” Alec nods noncommittally, hands fidgeting in anticipation for the night ahead of him.

“We’re worried about you man,” Jace whimpers like the sight of Alec’s to gray complexion, and his ribs actually looking like they may just tare through his paper thin skin, physically pained him.

“Don’t,” Alec pushes past them towards the heavy wooden door of the place that has never really felt like a home to any of them.

“Alec!” Izzy cries out in a shrill, effectively catching his attention enough so that the older boy pivots on his heals to meet her strong gaze.

“Once I thought you were Superman…And now you’re like a…a…” Her voice cracks.

“A shell of anything you ever were,” Jace completes with an edge of concern. “Man look at yourself.”

Alec doesn’t have to, he knows exactly the reflection that he’ll be met with—A pile of bones and skin that looks like it just might burst into dust at the lightest of feather touches, and tired eyes, which if one dared to look into would find a pair of consuming abysses—Ones with no end in sight—, Just darkness and desolation.

And he honestly doesn’t have the slightest clue to how he’s gotten here.

He was happy once—Wasn’t he?

He was top of his class from academics to athletics—He had real friends like Lily and Maia. And he and his siblings were once joint at the hips.

Alec was proud of himself so much so that he didn’t need his parents to be.

But He supposes that admits his parents not acknowledging his existence—His full and true existence—And working himself ragged to prove them wrong, (Proving that him being gay affected nothing but his partner of choice,)that Alec had lost himself in the void of darkness along the way.

“I-I’m sorry,” Alec gargles out in a mess of silent sobs and scorching tears, , while a scathing flash of memories burst to the forefront of his mind—Ones which depict how he had once taken care of his siblings as if they were his own, and loved himself like he deserved it—Each one drenched in an agonizingly bitter cloak of regret for what has come into fruition.

But then Izzy tackles him into an embrace that threatens to clog up his airways, and Jace isn’t far behind.

And Alec thinks that maybe this can mark a fresh start—Even if he feels it in his bones that it’ll never end. 

His life story is destined to be the words between the leather bindings of a novel rife with tragedy.

 

***

 

Alec abandons his family’s grandiose Brownstone on the Upper East Side the second he turns 18, and he never turns back.

He talks to his younger sister and brothers almost every day, but they never ever mention the rift between he and their shared parents—And Alec supposes that Robert and Maryse don’t miss him all that much, as long as they have two other, “worthy,” sons to uphold their family’s legacy.

It’s not hard to translate.

Two sons who don’t get hard when kissing another man’s lips.

And for all his pretending otherwise, Alec thinks that when his far too Haughty, and proud parents first looked at him as if he were the greatest disappointment of their lives—Subsequent to catching Alec in the midst of having the boy 3 doors down sucking him off on their $10,000 couch—A piece of Alec broke irrevocably, and ultimately withered away so entirely that he could never get that part of himself back.

He would never again be truly whole.

But it shouldn’t matter, because his parents are irrefutable asses, and Alec doesn’t need them.

And maybe if he says it enough, eventually it would be true.

 

***

 

“This place really is a shithole mi hermano,” Izzy remarks casually as she lounges leisurely on Alec’s too short couch—Her long legs swinging off the edge, and the neck of a cool bottle of whiskey in her hand. “You really are going for that whole tortured, lost generation writer kind of lifestyle, aren’t you?”

Alec can’t disagree, the cramped Brooklyn apartment is a far call from the boundless halls, and extravagant rooms of the Lightwood manner—But Alec doesn’t spare a single fuck over the situation. Because he pays rent with the tips he makes off his barista gig in one of the cafe’s specking NYU’s campus, and the chump change he gets from writing amateur articles that smalltime editorials publish on their websites.

It’s all his.

Alec is finally out from under his parents thumb, and everyone oos and aws over how liberating it must feel to be on his own.

So why does Alec think he’s still in harmony with some pathetic little cage bird.

 

***

 

Sweltering summer days are the worst, because then Alec remembers writhing bodies, and smoke filled rooms, and the pure escape of taking scotch soaked loads of tiny little pills that he snatched out some random fucks medicine cabinet.

And sometimes Alec thinks it would be just so easy to meander back to his past life, and pretend that he doesn’t hate everything about himself for hours at end.

But before he could give into any old temptations, the college freshman races out the building to find some sort of companionship who would knock him senseless if he ever reverted back to his past proclivities. 

 

***

 

“I just don’t get it!” Lydia Branwell laments with a sudden rage sparkling in her pale eyes. “How the fuck do you still get a better grade, even though I spent all night studying for this damn test while you were riding Raj’s dick the entire time!”

“What can I say,” Alec leers with an imperious tilt of his dark head. “The one good thing Lightwood genes can get ya is the smarts to get through school without much of any effort at all.” 

With a sudden, fuming impulse, Lydia grabs the scone right from Alec’s non suspecting hand.

“Hey! I missed breakfast.”

“Good,” she snipes with a dust of crumbs soaring from her lips. “Maybe the starvation will make you lose some braincells, so we lowly commoners can catch up.”

“You’re the worst,” Alec informs her indisputably.

 

***

 

When he first spots him—The guy across the hall—It isn’t like the earth shattering, war ceasing, government imploding moments that he prefers to write about in his short stories when two lovers first cross paths.

No, honestly it’s quite anticlimactic if he were to analyze it objectively.

Alec is getting home around eleven O’clock after working a double at Java Jalts. He’s tired, and irritable, and he thinks that he’d like to just jump in the shower and scrub out all the memories of snobby customers, and gazes that always linger a tad too long for his liking.

But as he’s patting his pockets for his keys, Alec hears the door behind him swinging open, and out of pure curiosity he glances back to lock gazes with probably the most astonishingly etherial looking man he has ever laid eyes on.

His hazel orbs catch on the man’s enrapturing pools of molten for only a moment before he swaggers off towards the elevator. But Alec was able to catch the slightest upturn of his lips, and his interest was peaked.

And Alec thinks he might like to follow 5B to whatever club he’s head to, if he’s dressed like that.

 

***

 

“So what’s his story?” Lydia asks while collapsing onto Alec’s sofa—Clad in a jumper/sweatpants combo that can only be justified by it being finals week.

“Who?” Alec quirks one of his brows her way while pouring a very precise amount of milk into his hot tea—A intricate recipe past down throughout the Lightwood generations.

“Ah, you know, tall dark and handsome who has the ass that proves God’s existence!” Lydia chides with a flailing of the arms. “You know the one who just walked out of 5B!”

“Oh, him,” Alec nods. “I dunno, he’s my neighbor.”

How very Hemingway of you,” the blonde deadpans. ” “Come on Alec! Help a girl out! The dude is literally sex on a stick! And I wanna know if he’s available!”

Alec can’t really disagree. Magnus Bane—The aforementioned sex on a stick—Was probably the most attractive man he’s ever seen, in person or otherwise. (He surmises that the opinion is mutually reciprocated if the coquettish glances Magnus tosses Alec’s way whenever they pass each other in the halls are anything to go by.)

In truth, Alec has always been well accustomed to lingering gazes melting over him, but he supposes Magnus is the first guy to evoke a similar emotion clambering within his deepest recesses.

“I dunno,” Alec reiterates—Because it’s true. All he knows from the mysterious maverick is that he is perhaps the only person on earth who could make eyeliner look formidable, and he throws insanely disruptive parties that an Alec from a past life would have relished in attending.

“Well find out will ya,” Lydia implores as she slides out her sleek laptop from her school bag. “Or else I will.”

 

***

 

Maryse Lightwood believed wholeheartedly that reading to one’s child directly correlated to their cognitive capacities as adults. So she had made it a ritual to gather her sons and daughter every night to read them everything from modern classics like Oliver Twist, and The Old Man and the Sea,, to pieces by ancient philosophers from Plato to Ibn Rushd. And just about everything in-between.

It was amidst those hourly assignations when Alec’s passion for poetic pros and intricate storylines had first begun to prosper. 

As an author himself, Alec has always been partial to focussing his works on the human condition. Putting a character’s relationship and personal growth before any cohesive plot. He idolizing works by Fitzgerald and Steinbeck.

Though Alec has never been outright opposed to other genres, like dystopians or mysteries—Especially if the mystery is as intriguing and befuddling as the enigma that is Magnus Bane.

While ever so casually striking up a conversation with the old lady who lives 3 floors up—The woman whom Alec has witnessed chatting with the enrapturing Magnus Bane on a myriad of occasions—He finds out that Magnus walks her dogs every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. (Disregarding his being a parent to an especially pampered cat.)

And Alec may have also mentioned Magnus while coincidentally running, (Literally so,) into his roommate, Raphael Santiago, on the elevator going up to their floor. 

It took Alec’s giving him the phone number of an overly energetic musical theatre student—One who had inconspicuously squirmed his way into begrudgingly being called one of Alec’s friends—To the brooding man, for Raphael to disclose to Alec that Magnus Bane was an up incoming designer whom’s clothing is slated to appear in the pages of Teen Vogue and the likes within the next month. (It took Alec’s promising to mention him in passing to Simon to get Raphael to also clue Alec into knowing that Pandemonium was the night club of choice where Alec would have his greatest chances in accidentally encountering Magnus on a frivolous night out.)

The author scrolls all the subtle nuances of Magnus Bane that he is slowly finding out into a small notebook—Trying with all his might to find a cohesive pattern amidst all the attributes.

Generous, considerate, motivated, ambitious, talented, vivacious…

Each time that Alec thinks himself to have begun to understand a layer of Magnus Bane, it only peals to reveal a whole new shell of iridescence that leaves the writer as befuddled as he was from the very start.

It’s a new obsession almost—The mission to understand Magnus Bane and the intreat that he has ignited within Alec—One which only proves to burn with a more ferocious vitality with every brush of the shoulder they have in the halls, or painfully mundane exchange of the words about the weather when they’re in the elevator. 

And Alec thinks he’d like to place the peaces of the jigsaw that Magnus Bane is, and illustrate the picture he creates.

 

***

 

“I swear to fuck math is the devil incarnate hear to wreak havoc by failing overly stressed out college sophomores because it knows it can.” Lydia moans, arms and legs stretched out on the bed like a jelly fish, and her blonde hair fanning over the pillow as if a golden halo.

“Well I suppose it’s doing it’s job marvelously,” Alec remarks dryly, never once slipping his concentration from the text in his grasp. 

“God remind me why I’m friends with such a sarcastic little shit!”

“Well if I’m little, does that make you a shrimp?” Alec smirks, adjusting his reading glasses as he moves to open the door for who he expects to be the Chinese food they had ordered an hour prior. He can practically feel Lydia’s tongue being stuck out his direction.

“I owe you $32?’

“Well I wouldn’t be opposed, though I fear to what precisely you expect in exchange.”

With a stutter of the chest, Alec looks up from the wad of cash in his hands to be met by a pair of brilliantly shaded chocolate orbs, ones which seem to be looking into his very being with a glint of an eternal amusement that he has towards everything that surrounds him. As if Magnus Bane has experienced all the highs and lows of life, and is charmed by how lesser beings try to trudge through all the shit.

“Magnus,” Alec speaks stupefied, yet running through all the scenarios that can constitute a good enough reason for the object of his affections for nearly a year to be standing outside his door, looking as etherial as always.

“Alexander,” Magnus nods with his ever present crooked grin. “Well now that we’ve cemented that we both remember one another’s names, I found this accidentally placed into our mailbox, but I believe this is yours?”

Alec accepts the obnoxiously frilled card, one which depicts a photograph of his smiling sister, and the words, Your Invited, in a extensively looping script. 

“Ah, yeah thanks,” Alec blushes with a chuckle. “It’s my sister’s invitations to her birthday.” He quickly explains to ensure that Magnus doesn’t get any sort of wrong idea.

“How delightful, well I’ll see you around Alexander.” Though before he is two steps away from the threshold, Magnus turns back in a flourish. “Oh yes, and just so you know, you needn’t go through Ms. Crawley, or Raphael—You can just talk to me directly—Especially if you’re wearing those, and only those glasses.”

The aspiring author finds himself yet again at a loss of words—Which truly is a normal state whenever around the beguiling man.

He flounders for a response—perhaps denial to what in hell he was talking about, or a curse spat towards the old woman and dancer—But before Alec can sputter a single syllable out, Magnus has sauntered off, leaving the splendid sent of sandalwood in his wake.

Surreptitiously sneaking a glance to his retreating form, Alec finds his gaze hungrily glossing over Magnus’s broad shoulders, and toned ass—Attributes only accentuated by the skin tight forget me not blue shorts, and salmon T-Shirt that Magnus garnishes as if robes threaded with gold.

His mouth runs dry, and Alec thinks that Magnus Bane must taste like bubblegum, and the first ice cream of the season, and all the sunlight strung together with the anticipation of long awaited beach days all wrapped into one.

Alec thinks he is the embodiment of summer holidays spent in the south of France, and the way one’s stomach twists in an overly excitable anticipation of sneaking to the fireplace in the dead of night to watch as the flames flicker to a gloriously beautiful force of nature that can consume you completely in it’s fiery wrath.

Magnus Bane is a force all his own and has consumed Alec Lightwood so entirely.

 

***

 

Magnus Bane looks like bubblegum, and when they kiss he tastes like once upon a time use to mean before Alec begun to see through the carefully concealed travesties and bloodshed tucked behind the gleaming towers and emerald roads.

It’s the final night before the term closes. For the next month, Alec is finally rid of all academia and the pressures that come with it.

He’s splayed upon his sofa, long limbs folded askew, a carelessly tossed MacBook besides him, and an array of miniature pills spread across the pathetic excuse of a coffee table he had purchased from Ikea a year and a half prior—His first true step from escaping the clutches of his parents tight hold on his life and his choices.

It’s become a game of sorts for the dark haired teen—Testing himself to see how greatly he yearned to slip into a spell of darkness once again, and experience the thrillingly addictive approval given by those whom are decades his senior.

Looking down now, the aching to grind the prescription drugs into a cheese like pouter screamed through him—He desired nothing more than to snort it for just tonight, and forget about everyone and everything for a few moments of bliss.

Not two weeks ago was it when his parents had unceremoniously kicked him out of his own sister’s birthday party, before all their vacuous acquaintances, and Alec’s once peers, apparently unable to sustain a relationship with their eldest born for any longer.

“I can’t support you and this lifestyle anymore,” Maryse had choked out in a wave of tears, as if she had ever been a mother to him in the first place, or as if he had ever spent a dime of their money in the past two years. “You are not my son, not until you repent for what you have done to our family…To our reputation.”

“You don’t deserve the name of Lightwood,” Robert spoke the cruelly repugnant insult with a tone that made it seem as if it was he, Alec, whom had pierced and wounded his own blood. As if Alec had committed the most abhorrent of crimes.

It took all he had for Alec not to scream and shout about how they were everything that has ever been wrong about him. And how they were the worst sort of people. The one’s who could not open up to change so fiercely that they would let go of their own child so to continue promenading in their bubble of pasted smiles and vicious whispers. 

Alec wanted to revel in watching Maryse and Robert’s reactions to Alec telling them how he has fucked so many of their ever so cherished friends. How their beloved banker Mr. Cartwright begged for him to cum right on his fat face. Or how Senator Wayland loved seeing Alec on all fours while sucking his cock like a piece of candy. Or maybe how universally loved family man Dr. Herondale gave all the prescriptions that Alec could ever want, as long as the teenager chokes him while fucking his ass over the patient’s bed, all the while whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

And with a nasty smirk, Alec was prepared to disclose to them all these hushed moments…But then he caught the smiling and laughing face of his little sister across the hall, and Alec wanted Izzy to be that happy always. 

So with a final snarl tossed his parents way, Alec had slipped out of the soiree undetected, and retreated to a painfully familiar bar where he ordered an endless amount of drinks, and got sucked off in a bathroom stall by some kid he vaguely recognizes from his statistics class.

he ran his fingers through the boys chestnut locks—Pushing his head harder against him—And when he was done, Alec kissed off the cum from his lips, and pretended like he wasn’t dying all over again.

That night—And every night after—Alec allowed himself to release the pent-up emotions threatening to burro through his very being, only the moons consolatory glow, and his own disparaging thoughts keeping him company in the immense darkness. 

Sitting here now, Alec replays the conversation in his head, and his father’s proclamation that he is not a true Lightwood—And it causes a new deluge of tears to gloss over his eyes. 

And Alec hates himself in such a devastating capacity that he can not even stomach looking into the mirror, or eating, or practicing in anything sustainable.

And it’s not the first time that he wishes that he had never existed—Because Robert and Maryse are right, he was never, and nor will he ever, be the son they always wanted to carry their name.

Alec can’t believe that once he had loved the Lightwood name more than just about anything else in the world.

Even now he runs his thumb across the proud Lightwood ring—An heirloom made of the most expensive of jewels and metals, with a fire carved into it’s visage—The pride of the Lightwood legacy.

“nares habent, et non confringet accipere unde.” (We break noses and accept the consequences.)

All Alec wants to do is break the nose of every god damn person who ever looked down at him, or ever made him feel unworthy.

Before he can stumble back to the kitchen to snatch up another bourbon, Alec catches the slightest wrapping against his door.

Alec hasn’t bothered with talking to other people since the incident, and ignored every time Izzy or Jace or Lydia, or even Simon had come unannounced to check up on him—And honestly Alec is content in practicing that same method for all the time to come.

But the thumping continues, and Alec supposes that if their is one thing he is not, it is a coward. So with all his unwashed, sleep deprived glory, Alec twists open the knob.

What the English major does not expect finding is a small, rambunctious Tabby cat peering up at him with large, beseeching eyes.

Alec could recognize the feline anywhere—Magnus’s pride and joy.

“Hey Chairman,” Alec crouches down as if the cat could truly understand him. “What are you doing here?”

The feline only pers and nudges it’s small head against Alec’s open pom.

“Come on Chairman,” Alec collects the tabby in his arms. “Magnus is probably worried sick.”

 

***

 

Alec isn’t surprised in finding 5B blaring with music, and the stench of alcohol and smoke in the air.

With a quick pounding of knuckles against the wooden door Alec only waits a few moments for it to be opened by a pretty Indian girl, one with a dazed expression glossed over her face, which alludes to the amount of drinks she had already swigged down.

“You’re not pizza?”

“Ah, no I’m not…I’m actually looking for Magnus Bane.”

“Who?…Oh Mags! Yeah he’s somewhere in here.”

“…Thanks.” The tall man squirms his way through the excess of fellow college students. Students whom are plastered off their asses and are grinding themselves with the pathetic veil of dancing.

It isn’t long until Alec finally finds the captivating sight of a shirtless Magnus Bane dancing amongst them—A sort of ring circulated around the enigma. All toned muscles, and chiseled abs in plane sight.

And Alec quickly deduces that Magnus Bane is not the type to assimilate into any throng of pedestrians. He radiates a loud sort of beauty, in which he, by no fault of his own, is set on a pedestal, and idealized for the vivacity he so effortlessly exudes.

The dark haired teen is not ashamed in admitting that he had stood their—Just staring at Magnus’s lively aura—For a far longer time than what was necessary. But soon enough Magnus caught sight of him—And Alec swears to all the stars above that a genuinely pleased grin melted into his handsome face.

“Alexander, what a pleasant surprise,” he greets while swaggering over to where he sands.

“Ah yeah, I’m sorry i Didn’t mean to crash your party.”

“Don’t be,” Magnus interjects with a hard tone. “I would’ve invited you if I ever thought you were at all interested—In parties I mean.”

Averting his gaze, Magnus sinks his teeth into his bottom lip—And Alec suddenly was come over with an all too enticing feeling to kiss those lips with all he had.

But as soon as the impulse came, it dissipated, and Alec shook himself free of any lingering thoughts of fraudulent acts.

“I just wanted to let you know I found this one at my door,” Alec quickly reddens while giving a small jostle to the cat yet snuggled into his forearm.

“Ah Chairman!” Magnus exclaims as if just taking notice of his beloved pet. “Where’s your party hat?”

“Party hat?” Alec questions with a kink of the brow.

“Well of course Alexander, I mean this whole celebration is on behalf of this little tykes sixth birthday.”

“You threw your cat a birthday party?” Alec deadpans with amusement glimmering in his tone.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Magnus challenges with a lopsided grin, and Alec thinks he’s been come over with a new craving to unravel this perplexing man.

“Well, I should…erm…Probably get going,” Alec offers before anything becomes to awkward.

“Stay…I mean Chairman obviously likes you, and is it not the point to have people you like around you during your birthday?” Magnus reasons.

So of course Alec stays.

And the entire night he is wholly and utterly besotted by Magnus Bane and everything he does. From dragging Alec onto the dance floor—Pressing so closely to him that the only way to find where his body ended and Alec’s began is the black jumper Alec continues to be clad in—To Magnus creating different concoctions for Alec to taste to both their amusement.

It’s the first night in too long that Alec found himself honestly laughing.

 

***

 

Hours pass. 

Only a few more bodies milled around the loft when Alec crashes his lips against Magnus’s to share a star spangled kiss.

And it’s everything he thought it would taste like and more.

It’s a symphony of lips and tongues and teeth before they somehow stumble into Alec’s loft—Away from the prying eyes of onlookers.

Magnus’s hands are knotted into Alec’s sable tresses—Pulling him roughly closer—While Alec desperately unzips Magnus’s leather pants—Burning red when discovering that there’s nothing underneath. 

“I’m…Not…Looking…For…A…Relationship-,” Magnus pants lasciviously while peppering kisses along Alec’s now bare chest.

“Neither am I,” Alec assures with one swift movement so that he is gliding over the beautiful man, and pretends that it didn’t just slightly hurt hearing him say that.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Some primal part of Alec leaves bite marks on Magnus’s thighs—As if marking his territory on someone who would never be truly involved with him.

 

***

 

Light filters through the blinds and bathes the small bedroom in a warming glow.

Alec flickers his eyes open.

Soar and aching, he feels a prickling chill run through him when he turns his head to find empty sheets.

The only clue to last night are the purplish bruises specked across his naked form, and the set of sunlight and sandalwood which clings to the air.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so so much for reading<3<3  
> And please let me know if you'd actually like me to publish the next part<3


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